I've Never been Home, Until now
by Author2b9411bloggergirl
Summary: This is a short story written for a friend! Enjoy! Warning, it is SAD! If anyone wants one written for them, pm me :)


For The Heir Of Salazar ( who is on Facebook!)

Spells of every sort whizzed around my head. I wondered how the others were. Fred? George? Were they...No! I couldn't let myself think that way. My heart quickened and the corridor seemed never ending. I could barely breath, my heart making its way much too quickly up to my throat. "Joanna!" I stopped, almost running into George Weasley, as I came to the end of the corridor. "George!" I hugged him. "Where's-" he cut me off. "Have you seen Fred?" he asked, concern etched all over his usually smiling face. "No, I was going to ask you," now I felt sick, it wasn't like Fred to not be with George and vise versa. "Duck!" he yelled, pushing me down. A shot of green flew past me, just over my flyaway auburn strands of loose, unruly hair. I pushed it back behind my ear, as we stood. George's eyes narrow. "STUPIFY!" he nearly screamed, fire blazing in the depths of his eyes. I traced the jet of magic to a crying Bellatrix Lestrange. "She's just down right mental!" I said, looking at him, over the chaos. I felt a leap and some comfort as I saw something familiar, something normal. George smiled. This, however, only reminded me of Fred's absence. "Let's go find Fred," he said, seemingly reading my mind. I followed at his words and gestures, heart racing once more.

"Umph!" I tripped over some of the stone rubble that I had been working so hard to avoid, it wasn't a far fall, but it still hurt and inhibited me from running. George stopped, a few feet ahead. "Petrificus Totalus!" a shot went over my head, stunning what I supposed was another Death Eater. He hurried over to me, helping me to my feet. "Ah," I limped a bit. "My ankle, I think I twisted it," I said, holding it and hopping along. George looked at me, either concern or gentle frustration on his face, I couldn't tell at this point, I could barely hear myself think for Merlin's sake. He took my hand, hurrying me along. "You okay?" he asked. "Yeah, let's just find Fred," my mind was already back on him. George just looked ahead, nodding.

I frowned, feeling pity for the 1/2 of the twins that was alone. He was NEVER separate from Fred, EVER. It must've felt weird. My mouth slid to the side, questioningly, thoughtfully.

We made our way down the marble staircase, to the entrance hall, when a booming voice caused us to freeze where we stood. "You have one hour to give up Potter, if you do this will all end. No more of you will have to die, you will be safe. I am calling off my men, your hour starts...NOW!"

I looked up at George, both of us knowing that was Voldemort's voice we had just heard. We made our way to the Great Hall. A lot of people, injured, tired, worried, dead, and crying stood clustered around. I saw a group of red heads, crying! I let go of George's hand and raced over. Had Ginny been hit? Percy, Bill, Ron?" I saw Mr. and Mrs. Weasley and, oh, there was Ron. Ginny? No, as I neared I saw her, and even Percy, then Bill walked up. Who could it be?

I edged around the group, and my heart nearly stopped. My blood turned to ice, the world stopped. "Fred!" I squeaked. I looked around. This had to be a bad joke of his, right? But the reddened, tear-stained faces told me otherwise. "No," I shook my head. "No, no, no," this wasn't possible, Fred couldn't be. A hand touched my arm and moved up my shoulder, as another person joined the group, though I didn't have to look to know who it was. At his touch, my ankle and knees gave way, I collapsed. "Freddie!" George cried out. The pain in his voice caused my tears to break free. "NO!" I cried. My face was soon soaked and sticky, I couldn't breath, and my chest muscles had started to spasm. George kneeled next to me, putting a hand on my back. At his touch, I flinched, yet was comforted. I held my hand, the one with the scar. The scar of I will not rebel against those of higher ranks, etched into it from when I had helped the Twins smuggle skiving snack boxes and puking pastels to students under Umbridge's nose.

I wrapped my arms around George's neck, burying my face in his dust covered, sweat and, now tear-stained, shirt. He put a hand on the back of my head. Moments later, he was trembling. I supposed he had been before, out of shock and sorrow, but now he stood, quickly striding towards the door. "He'll die, I'll kill him!"

Everyone watched, Molly yelled at Arthur to stop him, I jumped to my feet, stumbling but not allowing it to hinder me from chasing after him. "George! George!" I chased him out into the Entrance Hall once more. I grabbed his shoulder, stepping in front of him. "George, no, you can't!"

"Watch me," he said, looking at the door, then directly into my eyes. I knew he meant it, I knew he wasn't a coward, but I also knew he would die. "Snack boxes and Pastels won't work this time! Please, George, listen to reason!" I pleaded, fresh tears of fear and frustration pouring down my face. His face softened as one of his dirt and dust encrusted hands came up and wiped them away. "He-He killed Fred, Joanna. He HAS to pay."

I don't know if it was the romantic in me or if all of the muggle romance chic flicks I had seen suddenly took over, but I stood on my tiptoes, not breaking eyes contact, and kissed him. When we broke I whispered,"Please, George, I can't lose you both."

I blinked, dropping more tears. George took my hand,"Okay," he whispered, leading me back to where the rest of his family was. Arthur was coming out the door, as we arrived. "George," he sighed, hugging his son hard. "Thank you," he mouthed to me, over George's shoulder.

"Thank you," I heard in my ear, but when I turned no one was there. That had sounded like...no, I shook my head, you're just being emotional. George held out his hand in a new way. We walked side by side back to his family, back to where he needed to be, back to where he could be comforted and consoled. Back to where I was greeted, thanked, and comforted. Back to where I felt at home, the same feeling I got from being around George. From his eyes, from my hand in his, from his kiss.

That's when I realized, I loved him. I was suddenly pushed towards him by an unseen force, followed by a laugh. "Thank you, Fred," I thought,"Don't worry, I'll take care of him." I squeezed George's hand, he looked down, and returned the comforting affection.


End file.
